“Your grandfather?” Vázquez narrowed his eyes as though searching through a distant memory. “And does it actually work?”
“It works better than anything that needs electricity,” Álvaro replied, casting Mauricio a firm, challenging look.
Vázquez smiled—a small smile filled with understanding. Then he turned toward the group of wealthy teenagers.
“Young Estrada, I’ve already seen your robot. Very impressive. Very expensive. But I’m curious… I’d like to see a competition.”
“A competition?” Mauricio stammered.
“Yes. Right now. On the main stage.”
Ten minutes later, the main gymnasium was in chaos. The news spread instantly: Judge Vázquez had ordered a duel between the fair’s star project and the “garbage boy.” Parents whispered in outrage. Mauricio’s father, Rodrigo Estrada, stood red-faced with anger, demanding explanations from the principal. But no one dared challenge Rómulo Vázquez.
At the center of the stage, two large empty tanks were placed on a raised platform, with two water basins positioned below. On the left stood Mauricio’s “Hydra-X” robot, a gleaming machine of chrome and lights worth as much as a small house. On the right stood Álvaro’s collection of worn pipes and plastic bottles.
“The test is simple,” Vázquez announced into the microphone before the curious crowd. “Each system must pump 50 liters of water to the upper tank. The first one to finish wins. No excuses.”
Mauricio was sweating. His team of “advisors”—engineers hired by his father—typed frantically on laptops connected to the robot. Álvaro, meanwhile, stood alone. He pulled a roll of tape from his pocket, fixed the piece Mauricio had broken, and blew into one of the tubes to test the airflow.
Ramiro, Álvaro’s father, had stopped cleaning. He stood at the back of the gym, still holding his mop, his heart pounding wildly. Every instinct told him to run forward and pull his son away from the humiliation, but something about Álvaro’s calm dignity on stage kept him frozen in place.
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